


Got No Reason, Got No Shame

by Sarahhannigan



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Love Confessions, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-05-15 12:02:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14790165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarahhannigan/pseuds/Sarahhannigan
Summary: When a friends with benefits title doesn’t really apply anymore, when feelings are developed that weren’t necessarily in the plan to begin with -- What is one to do?Confess of course.So that’s just what Bellamy does, in a rather unconventional way.





	Got No Reason, Got No Shame

_So tell me what you want to hear_  
_Something that will light those ears_  
_I'm sick of all the insincere_  
_So I'm going to give all my secrets away_

Clarke and Bellamy were meant to hate each other. And truth be told they did…some of the time. 

When people were around, when they weren't alone, they well and truly kept up that impeccable act. The act in which they couldn't stand each other 24/7. Bickering, arguing, side-eying one another with scowls plastered on their faces was all to emphasise the play. Of course, it wasn't always a facade. Sometimes they well and truly pissed each other off. Clarke’s stubbornness and defiance. Bellamy’s broodiness and his constant need to correct a point made in an argument — all nitpicking traits they detested within each others persona. 

But more recently, they had discovered a way to rid themselves of some of that hatred, some of that tension. They had found a way in which made one another seem just that little bit more tolerable. Something that made their act a little harder. 

They decided it would be best to fuck all their hatred out.

It was a Friday night and Clarke wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed, pull her duvet over her head and sleep until it was Monday morning once again. But alas, it wasn't that easy. It had taken a full hour to convince Raven, her roommate, that she wasn't in the mood to come out tonight. The selling point ultimately being that she promised to go out for brunch the following day. 

And with that obstacle gone, Clarke finally succumbing to her exhaustion, another had arisen. An eight car pile up combined with a lack of working surgeons could only mean one thing; Clarke was called back to work. 

Five hours and three back to back surgeries later, Clarke fell back into place in which she had been torn from earlier that night. The love of her life; her bed. But as she tried so hard to close her eyes and drift into a much needed state of slumber, something she had been dreaming of throughout those dragging hours at work, she simply couldn’t. Far too much adrenaline was coursing through her veins, a need for a simple distraction nagging at her brain. 

It was only inevitable that she reached for her phone, texting a number that had become so very familiar.

_10:46 PM_  
**Clarke**  
_Tell me something good._

She was lucky he was such a speedy replier, especially when it came to her.

_10:46 PM_  
**Bellamy**  
_Like what?_

_10:47 PM_  
**Clarke**  
_Like that you also found an excuse not to go out tonight._

The thing was, in these past few months, Clarke had come to known Bellamy better than she had come to known anyone in such a sort period of time. She knew every speck of his personality, his routine, his entire being. How he always slept with socks on, regardless of the weather. How he liked to be kissed just beneath his ear, right on his rapid beating pulse when they were together. And how, perhaps the most terrifying and thrilling piece of information of all — how he could never, ever say no to her.

_10:48 PM_  
**Bellamy**  
_I can be over in 10. 15 if you need me to pick up some drinks. Vodka?_

Clarke contemplated it for all of three seconds.

_10:48 PM_  
**Clarke**  
_Nope. I just need you._

Then, just because she found herself getting giddy with excitement of this sort of secretive affair that had been going on for a while now. And giddy with the thought of Bellamy fulfilling her needs.

_10:48 PM_  
**Clarke**  
_In me._

She smirked at his reply.

_10:50 PM_  
**Bellamy**  
_Princess, you're killing me. Coming over now._

With a smile, Clarke slipped off her scrubs that she had been too lazy to take off prior, scrunching them up into a heap to throw them by her bedroom door. With an upheaving sigh, she stared at herself in the full length mirror next to her closet. She took in her slumped shoulders, her torn sports bra and her unflattering underwear. If it was anyone else coming over, Clarke might've have put an effort in. Some makeup, lingerie maybe. But it was Bellamy she was expecting and Bellamy was…different. 

She didn't need to do any of that, because with this little arrangement they had nothing was expected between them. Needs were met. Life moved on. The act was kept. 

They were happy, explicitly so. On the surface. Underneath it was a different story. 

***

Clarke awoke to something cold caressing her cheek, opening her eyes to find a just about saturated Bellamy standing next to her bed. Droplets of the rain she hadn't even realised had fallen clung to his hair, dripping down his freckled, tan skin as he looked softly down upon her. 

“And here I was thinking you were desperate for me,” he smirked. 

Rolling her eyes, she sat her groggy self upwards and pulled him down on top of her, only realising her mistake when his freezing body collided with hers. “Fuck,” she hissed, seizing up. “You’re like ice.” 

She felt him smile against her bare collarbone, his breath hot against her prickled skin. “Warm me up then.” His arms wrapped around her waist, rolling them until she was sprawled on top of him. He smiled up at her when she pulled back, pushing some wayward curls away from her sleep glazed eyes. “That’s what you wanted, right?” 

“Right,” Clarke spoke roguishly giving him a quick smile before leaning down, pressing her lips against his in a lingering kiss. His tongue pressed against the seem, a silent question. She granted him access as she delved deeper, the pillow his head was resting upon engulfing her hands as she pushed herself further against him. 

The moment was ruined however, when his still freezing cold hands suddenly plastered themselves against her bare back. She gasped, pulling back. 

“Not going to work,” she announced, pulling his hands away only to interlock his fingers with her own. “Come on.” 

***

Bellamy wasn't exactly too sure what this thing was that he had with Clarke. At first it was more sleeping together out of spite for one another, then when they begrudgingly became friends it kind of became friends with benefits. But now, with Clarke being regarded as perhaps one of his best friends, albeit in secret, perhaps it was something more. It didn't help that he was too scared to ask. 

The thing they had together was good. Confusing, but good. Maybe that was why he didn't want to lose it, because being with Clarke like he was now, her skin sliding against his skin under the warm spray of the shower, her breath mingling with his — it felt so seemingly right in a world full of wrong. 

This was safe. Safe was good. 

Rucking Clarke’s leg up and hooking it around his waist, Bellamy attacked the skin just below her collarbone with his lips, an area which was easily concealable yet if she worse one of those off the shoulder tops she looked so good in, one slip up and the bruises would be exposed. He loved the thrill of it all. 

“Tell me what you want,” Bellamy breathed, shivering despite the warm water when Clarke ran her fingers through his hair. 

“This,” she decided, hands trailing to length of his back before settling on dipping into the flesh just above his hip bones, pulling him closer. “Slowly.” She moved her hands upward, feeling the prickles erupting on his wet skin. “Make me forget my name. Then,” her hands found the curls at the nape of his neck, tugging at them teasingly when she got a fist full, “make me forget how to breathe.” 

And when Bellamy got orders, he well and truly obliged by them. Because just minutes later, he could feel all of Clarke’s tension ease down the drain with the rest of the water, her legs beginning to shake and buckle beneath her. 

“Easy princess,” he murmured, pressing her more firmly up against the tiled wall, though didn't slow his actions. “Don’t hurt yourself.” 

Clarke was a little less good at following orders. 

“Oh my god,” Clarke moaned, her head falling back only to smack against the tiled wall behind her with too much force to be ignored. With an audible clunk, the motion in which caused that involuntary action immediately ceased, causing a whine to replace her moans. 

“Jesus, Clarke. What did I just say?”

But the pain it caused her obviously passed relatively quickly or she didn't care. Because she mumbled something about needing him and him alone, the lump that would surely form on her skull could be addressed later. 

With a hand falling to his neck, she pulled his mouth against her own, searing a kiss when they met. “Don’t stop,” she ordered, guiding him in the motion when they pulled away. There lips brushed together with every thrust, breath hot on each others skin. Clarke repeated it like a mantra. “Don’t stop, don't stop, don't stop—“ 

“I’m home,” Raven called out, giving the two all of five seconds before they heard the bathroom door being flung open. 

“Stop,” Clarke whispered to him, pressing her fingers into his back, ceasing the motion. Then, praising the lord that there was a shower curtain concealing them both, she called out with a remarkably steady voice. “Hey Ray, I thought you were staying at Luna’s tonight.” 

“It’s pissing down outside,” Raven replied back blissfully unaware of what she had just interrupted. “Major thunderstorm coming in. There’s no way in hell I was letting everyone drive home in this weather.” 

Clarke’s breath hitched, dropping her head onto Bellamy’s shoulder. “Everyone?” She echoed, her voice barely a murmur above the spray. 

“Everyone,” she confirmed, just a hint of quizzicalness in her tone. “Why are you up, anyway? You were practically dead on your feet before. I thought you'd be passed out.” 

Bellamy knew Clarke was about to answer, her mouth forming the first syllable as she was about to explain that she was called into work and had back to back surgeries, when all sense of communication erased itself from her memory. Because Bellamy thrusted up into her, and her teeth sank into his flesh, groaning quietly. 

“Clarke?” Raven’s voice was growing suspiciously closer, making Clarke pull back and stare at him wide-eyed. 

A plea. 

With a smirk, he stopped. 

“Yeah uh—“ she managed to choke out, giving Bellamy a dirty look when he began to breathlessly laugh. “I got called in.” 

“You must be exhausted,” Raven sighed, her hand emerging from behind the shower curtain. Both froze, staring at the intrusion. Then, like she was seemingly agitated. “Clarke, face wash.” 

“Right.” 

Bellamy passed his friend the bottle, cringing when their fingers brushed. Raven, however, didn't seem to notice. 

“So,” Clarke started, running her fingers through Bellamy’s dripping hair, an almost nervous smile toying at her lips when he untangled them and kissed them instead. “Who exactly is outside?” 

Raven gurgled slightly in her answer, her mouth obviously filled with toothpaste. “Everyone except Bellamy.” 

“Oh really,” she smirked, eyeing him with a mischievous glint in her eye. 

And when Clarke looked at him like that, the beautiful shining blue focussed on him and him alone, he found it hard to believe that at one point in time he hated her. Now — now all he felt was love. 

Messy, beautiful love. 

“O said he had a date. Some girl he met at work.”

That’s why it was so hard to watch when her face fell, her smile vanishing. “Oh,” she breathed, painstakingly still looking straight at him. “Really?” 

Bellamy, mouth agape, shook his head and tried silently reasoning with her.

Fuck.

It was nothing, he wanted to tell her, that some persistent brunette wouldn't let him lay her down easy and that he was honestly scared for his safety if he didn't attend. That nothing happened between him. That he was using every excuse in the book to try and leave early. But they were all things he couldn't say. Because he was confined to a goddamn shower, silenced in order to keep the peace. 

“See you out there?” Raven asked Clarke just a few seconds later, unaware of the damage she had just caused. 

Clarke merely gave a coherent mumble of an answer before the door was shut and they were alone. 

Surprisingly, it the blonde who broke the silence, taking in a deep breath. “You had a date.” 

There was no point in lying, “Yeah but—“ he whispered, only to be cut off by a very persistent blonde who suddenly didn't want any inch of their skin touching. 

“Were you with her when I texted?” He couldn't read her tone, but the hurt etched into her face didn't waver. Apparently hurt Clarke didn't wait for full answers either, merely gathering suspicion as she turned off the water. “Oh my god, I ruined your night.” 

Bewildered, Bellamy could only furrowed his brow. Clarke Griffin had done a lot of things tonight. Ruining it was not one of them. 

“Clarke“ Bellamy tried, “No—“ But as he reached for her she slipped away, grabbing the nearest towel to wrap it around her body, concealing everything except that goddamn forming bruise he had left just blissful minutes prior on her collarbone. 

“I’m sorry.” She stopped all of a sudden, gathering her flustered self to turn towards him, taking in his naked self as he stood still in the shower. He couldn't help but notice her mapping out his skin, closing her eyes when the tedious task was over. It broke his heart when she very obviously strived to look unfazed. “You shouldn't have come. I was just being needy.” 

He sighed. “I wanted to. I—” 

“We’re not exclusive,” she interrupted yet again, swapping the towel for a robe that hung from the back of the door. “You’re allowed to date. I’m allowed to date. It’s fine.”

He was growing frustrated now, stepping out on the tiled floor. “Clarke—“ 

“Just,” she took in a shuddering breath and tried for a smile. It was shaky, unbelievably so. “I’ll distract them and you sneak out the window, yeah? It’s been fun.” 

Before he even had the chance to reply she was gone, slamming the door in her wake. And God, Bellamy couldn't help but slam his fist into the marble top vanity, not caring how much it hurt or if anyone heard him. Anger boiled beneath his skin, not at Clarke per se but at the thought of his stupid self letting his solace slip away all because he couldn't say no to some woman who scared him. And that he couldn't own up to what he was really feeling.

Because every time she texted him asking him to come over, it was a godsend. Because every time she smiled and joked and laughed at him, he felt his heart spasm. And because every time he got to hold her, lay his lips on her skin and just breathe her in — he never wanted to stop.

With sheer determination, Bellamy wrapped a towel loosely around his waist and stormed into the living room, his stubbornness not faltering even when the eyes of all of his close friends gawked at his near naked state. “Dammit Clarke!” he just about yelled, enjoying watching her breath catch as she thundered towards him. 

“What the fuck do you think you're doing?” she hissed, trying to pull him back down the hall. 

But he wouldn't let her, pulling his arm away from her tightfisted grip. “I’m trying to say that I’m in love with you without you fucking interrupting me.” 

He watched as her world spun on its axis, his included with it. 

“You what?” she asked him, but it wasn't just her. Everyone in the vicinity had the same question on their lips, brows all furrowing in confusion. The act they had kept up obviously worked, but the truth was that Bellamy had never hated Clarke, not really. And if he was meant to, by any means — he was doing an absolutely terrible job. 

“I love you, Clarke Griffin.” Bellamy mightn't have had any idea what he had just done, but right now he couldn't find it in himself to care. “A-and I think you love me too.” 

There was the saying — that time stood still. But it didn’t in this particular circumstance. Not for Bellamy, anyway. Everything was heightened and everything was spinning. Time was going too fast.

“You two are—?” he heard Jasper ask, only to be shushed by a chorus in his wake. 

And Bellamy was honestly grateful. This, right here, was between him and Clarke. Him and Clarke alone — even with the audience. No way in hell he was going to let any of his idiot friends ruin this moment for him, whether the outcome was good or bad. God, he was praying it was good. 

Honestly, he was getting a little unnerved by her lack of response. 

She stared at him, lips parted to allow the smallest amount of oxygen to pass through them. Then, “You — you love me?” Her voice was barely a whisper, her eyes searching his to somehow seek if there was truth behind his confession. When he nodded, her lower lip began to tremble ever so slightly. “You love me.” She spoke louder this time, as if coming to terms with it all. “You love me.” 

“Yes, Clarke. I love you.” 

Her limbs moved as if she had never done it before, eyes wide as she took a hesitant step towards him. 

“You love me too, yeah?” he asked her rather dumbly.

And his life whole life changed when she surged towards him, jumping up just in time for him to catch her around the waist, steadying her when her legs crossed tightly around his lower back. She was lighter than air in his arms, exactly like how he was feeling in that exact moment. “Yeah,” she breathed against his mouth, grinning with the widest smile he had ever seen on her. “Like a lot.” 

That’s when time finally slowed. 

“Cool.” 

“Cool,” she echoed, leaning down to press a lingering kiss on his awaiting lips. “I love you, Bell.”

And as they got a little too carried away, the towel around his waist beginning to slip they disregarded all decency, all courteous laws regarding being a good host and excused themselves for the night. No explanation did they leave. It would have to wait until morning. 

“What the fuck just happened?” he heard Jasper ask as they scampered down the hallway, completely caught up in each other just seconds later. 

The answer Raven gave in return couldn't help but entice a chuckle to escape from both of their lips. Hot puffs of air onto even hotter skin. “Bellamy and Clarke just happened.” Then, almost as an afterthought. “Messy, beautiful love just happened.” 

And Bellamy surely would agree, slamming the door when they entered the bedroom and depositing Clarke all too gently onto the mattress he had found her on hours beforehand. “Messy, beautiful love.”

_This time_  
_Don't need another perfect lie_  
_Don't care if critics ever jump in line_  
_I'm going to give all my secrets away_

**Author's Note:**

> Quick write because I was bored. 
> 
> Let me know what you think!!
> 
> Xx Sarah


End file.
